


Technicality

by minutemarch



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Dirty Talk, I am very sorry, Kinda challenge fic, M/M, No one should read this, PWP, Shameless Smut, Terrible terrible car puns, Things that happen on LJ, Well I did warn you, crack!fic, no really, turn back now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/pseuds/minutemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James knows how to charm every lady on the planet but nothing he learned there would work in Niki.</p><p>Fortunately he comes up with something that just might.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technicality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaveFelem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveFelem/gifts), [lucius_complex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucius_complex/gifts).



> To the people who inspired this fic, you know who you are. I am so very sorry. Forgive me!  
> This all grew out of a discussion on LJ and it seemed like a very good idea at the time!
> 
> As for the all important wristbands, why yes, they are real. 
> 
> http://f1store.formula1.com/stores/f1/products/product_details.aspx?pid=117400

James knew everything there was to know about getting a girl excited in the bedroom. He had all the right words at his command. His fingers, his smile, his clever lips never hesitated and never failed. James knew how to make each one feel special. He knew how to make each one feel like they were the only one, even when they were one of three. Not a single girl had ever come out of his hotel room with a complaint and James knew it.

James Hunt was, indeed, an immortal fuck.

But there was one person who James had no lines for. There was someone who would never be charmed by his smile or his very best patter. There was someone James wanted to see come undone but nothing in his previous bedroom experience was enough to get him there.

No. For this James Hunt needed to draw on a very different kind of experience.

He started to read. It wasn’t that he didn’t read before but his reading became a little more… focused. And constant. Alistair could never recall a time when he had to work around a book to talk to James but he had to now. The thing went everywhere with him. It looked like serious and intense professional interest. From anyone else it even made a good deal of sense. From James it raised eyebrows but not really more than that. How could anyone come down on him for doing the right thing? 

James pretended he didn’t know what they were looking at and read on. 

Then in Paris, James Hunt decided to make his move.

~

James thanked the gods of sex and romance for conjoining hotel doors and never had he used one with quite so much considered artistry. His mark sat on his own bed, quietly reading to himself, clearly winding down for the night. He only looked up when the door between their rooms closed gently.

“What is it, James?” Niki asked in his tight little accent. He didn’t sound overly impatient, his eyes going to the champagne glasses James was carrying. “You wish to start early? The race isn’t for two days.”

James held out one of the glasses to Niki. “Thought we could unwind a bit. Helps with sleep, you know?”  
Niki frowned, taking the glass but not drinking. “I sleep fine,” he said, watching James as he sat on the edge of the bed. His expression was vaguely suspicious. 

“There’s fine and then there’s great,” James grinned and raised his glass, taking a sip. Niki, as expected, looked unconvinced.  
“Humour me,” James said and Niki, after pausing to study his drink as if afraid it might be tainted in some way, relented and took a sip, then another because James has sprung for _good_ champaign.

James knew Niki avoided drinking before a race but one… one was easy to justify and that was all James had brought with him. That was calculated too.

James didn’t have his book with him, didn’t need it by now. He did have a few items in his pocket he’d picked up in a curious gift shop. The French... had some interesting ideas about what tourists might like and James had some interesting ideas on how to use them.

And on whom.

Niki drank his champaign and James drank along with him, sipping it with clear relish. It wasn’t so very strange a thing to do and it didn’t take them long to empty the glasses.

Niki had since put his magazine aside and was looking closely at James over the top of his empty glass. “Okay, we have done this. You should go and have your great night’s sleep now,” he said.

James nodded. “There’s just one thing I have to do first,” he said, and leaned in close, lips an inch from Niki’s right ear. “Self-sealing fuel lines,” he whispered in a low, urgent, tone.

He saw confusion pass over Niki’s face as he sat back but there was something else too. “What are you doing Hunt?” he snapped but, even as he did so, his face coloured.

James’ heart sped up a little. Could his hairbrained idea actually work? It was an easy decision, to press his advantage. He leaned in close again. “Naturally aspirated engine.” There was a twitch at the corner of Niki’s mouth and his eye. He breathed out a little too sharply. James put his glass on the bedside table.

“I think… you should go,” Niki said, swallowing thickly, hands working against the bedspread. James wasn’t sure Niki was even aware he was doing it.

Only James didn’t go. He tipped his head back a little and pressed deliciously warm lips to the side Niki’s throat. “Four valve fuel injected alloy head engine,” he purred against his friend’s pale skin. It was followed by a grin for Niki’s gasp.

He only kissed, for a moment, silently soothing, mind ticking over, taking in every reaction, every breath. Niki was moving towards him now, barely perceptively but with a steady press into James’ lips. 

Sure of his work now James lifted a hand and thumbed open the top button of Niki’s pajama top, the second following soon after. The third left enough room to kiss his way over to an unsuspecting nipple. He was approaching the critical moment but Niki only tipped his head back and bit his lip.

“Double wishbones.” A kiss. “Rocker arms.” A firmer kiss. “Inboard spring damper units and anti-roll bar.” A deep groan. James worked open the rest of Niki’s buttons but it was the Austrian who wriggled out of his shirt. 

James felt narrow fingers curl around his hair and push his head lower. He chuckled, letting Niki move him to hover at the edge of his waistband. “You sure you don’t want me to go back to my room?” he asked with a teasing lilt.

“Move and I’ll nail the door shut,” Niki spat, his breathy voice gamely trying to be commanding.

All that got from James was a grin. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave without tending to your undercarriage.” 

The thin fabric of Niki’s pants was gone a moment later, underwear with them. James was sure it was the worst line he’d ever used but damn if Niki wasn’t purring like a well-tuned engine after a warm-up lap.

James Hunt was always one to just go with what worked, however strange.

He placed a hand on Niki’s chest, pushing him flat on the bed. Niki’s knees soon followed, pressed into the comforter at extremes to each other. Warm inner thigh and lips met, James’ hot breath making Niki shiver.

“I think your drive shaft is happy to see me,” James said, his voice appreciative.  
“Not see you. Feel you,” Niki panted. “Get on with it, Hunt!”  
“You’re such a grouch when you’re horny,” James complained. “Or hungry. Or cold. Or breathing.” The sting of his words was negated by the string of kissed rising up the inside of Niki’s thigh, all the way to the junction of leg and body. James’ tongue slipped up the deep channel, earning him a shuddering cry from his eager mark.

From here James knew he didn’t need to say another word. All he needed was his tongue and his two hands but he’d never tried anything quite like this and so he kept his mouth free this time. He squeezed a little lube into his palm and pulled the other things he’d brought with him free of his pocket.

He grabbed Niki’s arm off his chest and slipped two rubber wristbands over it. “I do like a good bit of Pirelli rubber,” he purred. Niki, confused at what was going on, lifted his arm to look at it. Two black bands bumped against each other. One said “Medium”. The other, “Hard.”  
James took Niki in hand and stroked him gently. “We’ll work on that,” he said and Niki dropped his hand onto the bed, biting his lip as James pressed his thigh into the bed, keeping him still.

“If you’re very lucky I’ll lubricate your ball bearings.”

He felt Niki’s cock twitch in his hand and be grinned, pistoning him firmer and firmer until he needed to reach into his stockpile again.

“Wrist, Niki.”

Niki held up his arm without needing to be told twice. One of the bands was slipped off. “What does it say, Niki?”

“Hard,” the Austrian growled out.  
“Does that mean you like this? You want me to keep going?”  
“Don’t stop!” Niki commanded, sucking the rubber ring into his mouth to keep James from removing it.

“Things are getting slick down here,” James said, kissing the rise of Niki’s hip. “Do you think we’re on the home lap? Hmm? Is that where you want to be Niki?”

“Ya!” Niki cried out, trying to lift his hips off the bed but defeated by the weight of James’ free hand.  
“Can’t corner without downforce, love,” James pointed out, drawing another deep growl from Niki. He didn’t sound angry.

James’ hand was starting to ache but the result he was getting was worth the ache, the chance and the hours of readings and notes in margins.

“Niki, wrist.”

Another band slipped over Niki’s slender hand. “Good, Niki. This is just what I want. The finish line is in sight. Are you going to go for it? Can you feel the pulse of your throttle? What are your pistons doing, Niki?” 

James wasn’t even sure what he was saying now, getting as caught up as Niki was. The younger man took a moment to glance at his wrist and drop his arm back down again. _Hard. Wet._

The only answer to James’ question spilled over his hand in ropey threads. James kept pumping Niki until there was nothing left, the spray of champaign on the podium.  
The reward was the glazed look on Niki’s face, the cant of his mouth, the draw of his hand on the back of James’ head as Niki pulled him in for a desperate kiss. James lost himself in the heat of Niki’s mouth for a moment before he pulled back, taking back control.

“Niki. Wrist.”

Two bands came off, one went on.  
 _Supersoft._

Niki laughed, a little high from his orgasm still. “Let me have those,” he said of the bands. “I will show you supersoft.”

James handed over the little rubber bands and stroked a hand over Niki’s chest. 

He had to admit. A little research really could pay off.


End file.
